The Race Of Life...

By the local correspondent Inaya Sinha

Run and toil in the scorching sun,

Pressure on your back like a million tons.

Run fast, run to the end of the line,

You can’t stop now, there isn’t any time!

Your feet must ache for victory,

Today is the day that you make history!

Without time to stop or to think,

You’re on life’s race track before you could blink.

People cheering on you in a never-ending stadium,

Can’t have too much pressure on the old cranium.

Picture this, crossing the finishing point,

You just can not disappoint!

People always say if you give it your all,

It won’t matter whether or not you fall.

Is it the same for someone else,

“You better win!” someone yells.

Tragedy strikes on the race track,

From my friends leg, I hear a crack!

Rolling in pain towards the sidelines,

This is the moment where my character gets defined.

Do I stop to help them and lose the race,

Or run ahead and get first place?

What’s more important, my friend or a medal,

Never mind, it’s just a useless piece of metal!

My friend is in deep pain,

By helping them, I set fire to the common rain.

I hear from the stands “Leave her, go ahead!”,

If I do that, my kindness will be dead.

She picks herself up, and we limp together,

We finally crossed the finish line, we shan’t surrender!

I know that, for me, the race is lost,

But to win, no, my friend is too high a cost.

Even in the race, though I came last,

My list of friends is very vast.

Rather than win a race of running,

I want to win the race of life, it’s very cunning.

To be able to stop, and help a friend in need,

In my heart, I have planted empathy’s seed.

Kindness and empathy are the most important traits,

With that, a lovely world awaits.

The race of life, I have won,

To win it, with all you must become one.

Thank You!!

An Ode To A Noon Start Day...

By the local correspondent Inaya Sinha

The 7 o’clock alarm shaking me awake, 

My mental health is now at stake!

Walking to the bathroom with half open eyes,

As the rude morning sun lights up the skies. 

It really is a quite a pretty sight, 

But I bet, everyone like me, misses the night!

I wake up with my mother looking over me,

The watch my dad gave her is all I see. 

Reluctantly, I stretch and waddle out of bed,

I haven’t the energy even to be fed.

 Once I get on the bus and see all my friends,

It’s like the sad journey finally ends. 

I love school, and have fun through the day,

When I come home, for more sleep I pray. 

Usually I wake up and see the bright moon, 

But it’s such a joy when I wake up at noon. 

Sometimes you just wanna go back to rest,

So that you can actually be your best. 

Can I sleep for just a little more time,

Nope, there’s the clocks hourly chime!

Then comes the blessing of a lazy Friday night,

The best part is when my mom switches off the light!

At noon, I love to look at the clock,

Feeling like I slept as cozy as a rock.

Waking up to see lunch on the table,

On a school day, that’s like a fairytale or a fable!

Waking up late, it’s like a holiday tradition,

Enough sleep is my bodily ignition!

Even though, on holidays, I wake up at noon,

Sometimes I still feel like I woke up too soon!

Do you know what would be really fun,

Waking up at half past one!

Thank you!!

Inadira’s Journey…

By the local correspondent Inaya Sinha

To,

Arabian Sea,

Worli, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India 40013

From,

Inadira River,

Himalayas, Mount Kailasa, Peak 5, Himachal Pradesh

Dear Arabian Sea,

Inadira, here. I have heard lots of stories about you from my grandmother, The Narmada. I believe you know her well. I am only 10 years old but due to global warming, icecaps, glaciers and snow are melting too quickly so I am the size of a 15 year old river. One day, I was looking up at the clouds wondering when they would add more to me when I started thinking about my future. I wonder, when I reach you, will I feel too salty? I know what you’re saying, I should ask my grandmother but she always says that in a few centuries I will find out. I’ve been wondering which places I will flow through when I’m a bit older, I think I will flow through Jammu and Kashmir, Delhi and maybe even Mumbai! But this is all guesswork, you know, I see human children everyday crossing me by jumping over those rocks which rest on my banks to get to school. I wish there was something called River School where we could learn stuff like where we will flow through and make some friends. Even though I don’t have any river friends, I do have a lot of stream friends. I’ve got six, they are twins. They all have the same name, Tributary.

I’ve heard stories but is it true that the people of Madhya Pradesh and Gujarat are actually fighting over Narmaa? I just don’t understand these people, Narmaa is happy to share her waters with Madhya Pradesh and Gujarat equally. They need to learn that fighting doesn’t fix everything. Hey, by the way, how do people around you treat you? There was once an oil spill in me, so basically, there was a storm where a ship was carrying barrels and barrels of oil and one strike of lightning and the whole ship went down. I felt terrible after that, I felt choked like when you have a really bad throat ache. And you know what happened, my fishy friends started dying because oil went into their gills and killed them, and my school friends ( the human children ) used to take water from me for school but after the oil spill my waters became impure and one child actually fell really sick because of drinking my water. But one day, I heard my friends talking about UOI class where they learned about pollution and conservation as they were crossing me. I also heard one of the girls named Inaya who wants to raise money to build a plant to purify my waters and make them pure again. I can’t imagine how you would feel because you literally have oil being drilled from your beds but I also heard that they have beach clean - ups at Choupatti Beach, how does it feel to see the humans making an effort to keep you clean and happy? It can get quite chilly here at Mount Kailasa especially during winter and I see my friends wearing sweaters and shawls and sometimes I wish I could borrow one, at least for one night. Currently I feel I am running down the mountain from the avalanche of growing but when I am in my lower course and meet you I hope I’ll be a lot more at ease. I am a freshwater body and my water is sweet but I have heard that you are much bigger and you have salt water in you and it is not safe to drink. I love my people being able to drink my water ( no offence ) but they also wash clothes in me which something I am not very fond off. You don’t have to worry about that because the soap they use to wash clothes won’t work in you.

I am very close to the day where I will finally get the freedom to roam the lands and meander about. Did you know that dirt or sediment as you may call it, actually helps in my journey as a river. After I take a little vacation from my usual path, dirt and sediment block my path but I am strong so erode a new path to get back to my old one, while leaving a little island behind also known as the ox - bow lake. It’s not a real lake. When doing this I also leave behind most of the dirt and sediment floating in me. Even though I have deposited most of my dirt and sediment I still have a lot left which clumps together to form something called a delta. Deltas are actually pieces of dried up land which separates me into different channels. Deltas are the last step before my journey ends and I get carried by you from county to county. Now, I’ve rambled on enough about myself and after this I’m sure you won’t need to attend history class but anyway, I look forward to meeting you very soon.

Lots of love,

Inadira River.

The story behind this letter

I actually wrote this letter in Grade 3 for our unit Rivers and I thought I should share it with you. The name Inadira is a mix of Inaya, my name and my nani's name, Indira.